“I intend to.”
That was actually the second conversation I had with Gwen’s family that day. The first occurred after I awoke to alleviate Clarissa from her night watch duty. I wandered the premises thinking I was the only person now stirring, but when I ambled to the back of the home, I saw Melea feeding grain to about fifteen chickens. I would have preferred to avoid her, but I was doing nothing to muffle my walk, so she heard my approach and turned around.
“Good morning, Mercer,” she stated with a drowsy voice she failed to hide. Some light drizzle fell from the gray skies, but nothing that could bother a butterfly in its flight, so I doubt it did much to stir her.
“It sounds as though you could have slept more of it away, Ms. Droland. I apologize if our presence has disturbed a restful night.”
“All your presence has done is made me have to sleep in the same room as my brother, something I haven’t done in ten years. That is far more disturbing than any stranger’s presence.”
“If that remains your biggest disturbance in life, then you can say you’ve lived a good one.”
“Or one that has been far too quiet… But do you think looking for the best of what life has to offer also means inevitably seeing a few disturbing things as well?”
“I believe the best and worst can come right to your door, whether one seeks them out or not.”
“I imagine being a bodyguard means having disturbing things come at you more often than not.”
“Sure.”
She went back to feeding her clucking chickens. I read this as my cue to leave, but before I took a step a full step back, she asked, with rather abrupt conviction,” Are you really a bodyguard?”
“That’s the story I’m sticking with.”
Facing me again, she said, “So you aren’t one?”
“Not officially, but I act like one sometimes.”
“Then who are you? And why the lies?”
I remained silent, my eyes boring into her own.
When she finally flinched, she said, “What are you doing?”
“You’ve been wary of us since learning Ghevont was Vey’s brother, yet you aren’t afraid of me. I can even guess you haven’t told your brother anything of your suspicions, have you?”
“Why does that matter?”
“Because it tells me you’re upset with your mother, not worried about danger. Do you believe Ghevont and Vey are your half-siblings?”
Forgetting herself, she said her “No!” louder than she wanted to. She collected herself, smoothed her apron, and continued by saying, “You presume too much.”
I shrugged. “Perhaps. I can only assure you that Ghevont is not a long lost sibling. If you want to be eased further, I can also tell you that you no longer have to worry about Vey ever returning.”
“You mean Vey is-”
“I wouldn’t tell this to Gwen. Despite the woman Vey turned out to be, your mother would only remember her as a loving child she helped raise.”
“I did not want more secrets, Mr. Bodyguard.”
“Sometimes we’re lucky if that’s all we get. I wouldn’t concern myself with your mother’s past. It appears she has largely moved on from it.”
“All the more reason to share it with me or father.”
“That’s what deathbeds are for.”
“Is it really as bad as that?”
“No, but it might make you think less of your mother, something a mother might wish to avoid.”
“All you’re doing is increasing my need for answers.”
“So speak with your mother about it. I’m only saying it would be unnecessary. It’s certainly something that can’t wait until I’m days away from here. Besides, I have no doubt you’ll someday have your own secrets to keep from your parents and children.”
“Did you get whatever secret you were looking for?”
I bowed. “I’ll keep that to myself.”
The ultimate goal of Dranall was over three thousand miles away, so I was eager to restart my journey. I set that restart time for noon the next day. Everyone appeared sadder at the impending separation, which I expected between Gwen and Ghevont, but for even Marcela to display genuine regret surprised me. It reminded me that I was just as ignorant about the formation of human connections as the scholar was.
I expended much of my time looking over maps, making sure we traveled on routes clear of human congestion. My group enjoyed another supper and breakfast with the family before getting ready to leave. Gwen, using the soggy weather as her excuse, wanted us to stay longer, but I assured her that only a tempest would dampen my purpose. Not long after they supplied us with good foodstuff and wishes of luck, we were off.
The loquacious scholar kept in contemplative silence for the rest of the day, but his usual mood returned after our first night’s rest in the wilderness. For my part, the words that came out of me were often related to battle preparation—whether that came in the form of Advent, trolls, an army of drunk pirates, or a petulant child. I specifically needed Ghevont to use his variety of spells with a warrior’s fortitude and instinct, especially in ambush situations. More than anything, I wanted him and Clarissa to work well together.
The basic plan was to always have Ghevont fight defensively with his array of ward spells and distractive techniques while Clarissa made certain no one reached him or Marcela, who was to always stay right behind her friend. I would, of course, act as the main offensive pawn, moving about as I saw fit in a fluctuating battlefield.
In addition to practicing strategy, there was practicing our individual casting ability. Clarissa focused on strengthening her water spell. She accomplished this by trying to douse my dragon fire as quickly as possible, which I manipulated to last as long as possible. With Ghevont’s guidance, the vampire was also training to turn her water into ice and steam. In anticipation of living with the Warriors Guild, Marcela also joined our training regimens. She did not yet have the endurance to train for extended periods, so much of her time was spent getting her stamina up with the fundamentals. Ghevont and the girls mostly trained among themselves, but I occasionally provided input when I saw something not to my liking.
With a pair of people not acclimated to lengthy travel, combined with tiring combat drills, I was more inclined to pay for a carriage ride. It was on one of these rides that the chance to test our battle capacity presented itself one muggy evening. My quiet quartet was on a small cart being pulled by a large horse and its gaunt, dark-skinned rider. The bumpy road we traversed was a solitary one, with tall trees making it darker than it already was.
The first sign that something was not so tranquil about this leg of the journey was the far off neighing of several stressed horses, neighing that closed in from behind us. Stamping hooves and excited shouts from humans followed an instant later. All this sounded quite familiar to me.
We were at the bottom of a hill, so I hoped we could avoid what was coming by remaining incognito. “Get us into the forest as soon as you can,” I told the rider.
“Why?” asked Marcela. “What’s going on?”
“Sounds like incoming bandits, but they’ll hopefully pass us by if we hide well enough.”
“Hide? Shouldn’t a mighty dra-” My hand covered her mouth and I used the other to point at the stranger in our midst. She pushed my hand away and said, “Whatever! Be a coward.”
The cart found cover behind some bristly bushes just before the first pair of centaur-like figures appeared over the hill. Behind them was a thundering stagecoach pulled by four horses. The overwrought beasts were being whipped to their limit by their human director. The top of the stagecoach also held two archers, who did their best to keep the bandits at bay with a flurry of arrows. One arrow found its mark in a brigand, knocking him off his horse, but his companion nearly knocked an archer off the carriage when a fireball exploded at the carriage’s roof.
Three more hollering horsemen arose behind the stagecoach.
“Mercer,” whispered Clarissa
, though we were still far away enough to speak normally without the aggressors hearing us. “Shouldn’t we help them?”
“An unnecessary risk. We’ll let them pass and go around wherever they end up.”
Clarissa’s eyes narrowed to the point I believed she was capable of acting out her vampiric nature on me. In lieu of piercing my skin with her fangs, she leapt out of the cart. I groaned as I followed after her. I firmly ordered Marcela to stay with the cart and motioned for Ghevont to trail Clarissa. The stagecoach had reached the hill’s nethermost by the time my squad reached the edge of the road, meaning the vampire’s targets were less than forty yards away. I held back Clarissa’s impromptu body with an arm and pulled out my distractions.
“Just knock them off their horses,” I ordered Clarissa. “I’ll handle the rest. Keep any spell from hitting her, scholar.”
When the inbound party was a second closer, I stepped out from the forest and stood in the center of the road. Before anyone of them reacted to my presence, I chucked three explosive stones over the head of the nearest bandit. The flash-bang made the bandit’s horse rear up high enough to drop its passenger. The stagecoach horses responded by swerving sharply away from the unpleasant effect. Their panicked hooves trampled over the fallen bandit and shoved their fellow beast aside before slowing to a stop at the road’s edge.
At the same second the stagecoach horses were stomping his comrade to death, the second bandit saw one of two versions of me rushing at him. This fleeting illusionary diversion was all that was needed for Clarissa to propel the grunting second bandit off his steed by a jet of water. The archers, seeing whose side we were on, trained their few remaining projectiles on the three other attackers. The bandit Clarissa swatted to the ground had no time to get his bearings before Aranath introduced himself to his neck. Both archers displayed the same amount of mercy.
With the odds flipped against them, sword, spell, and arrow made short work of the now reticent robbers. The last bandit almost galloped behind the shelter of the trees, his glassy ward spell strong enough to deflect the bitter bolts, but the gray haired archer nocked his arrow and told his younger compatriot to “Wait until he’s on the ground.” His keen eyes trailed the escaping horsemen for a moment before letting his arrow fly. The projectile struck the horse’s foreleg, making it tumble. An arrow from the younger archer flew next, an electrical light enveloping its broadhead.
“I got him.”
“Go make certain, and end the horse’s misery as well.”
They each hopped off the stagecoach to inspect the damage. As it turned out, the only passenger was an old man, an old man who believed the newcomers were just as apt to rob and murder him as the bandits. The rider and archers were more grateful for the aid, but offered no material thanks beyond a few spare coins. Clarissa only took the coin so she could give it to our own driver.
“I hope you’re not angry with me,” said Clarissa when we were back on our moving cart.
“I’m not angry.”
“Really?”
“Well, I’m annoyed, but you still have some leeway with me, especially after I didn’t tell you about Aranath. Just be aware that this flexibility can only stretch so far. Choose wisely which fights you throw us in.”
“I don’t want to throw us in any fights, but I can’t just let bad things happen right in front of me.”
“Bad things are sometimes done by good people. Yes, the bandits we helped execute would have killed those on the stagecoach, but do you know who those on the carriage were?”
“Just some rich old guy and his bodyguards.”
“Why would a rich old man be on a lonely road with only a pair of archers defending him?”
“That does sound odd,” said Marcela. “You’d think he’d hire more guys.”
Concurring with her, I said, “You can also imagine an ordinary old man unused to danger would be more appreciative of our efforts. No, the real owner of that stagecoach would have been surrounded by a large escort on a road such as this. A well-to-do merchant or sariff farmer would also never wear the leather armor I saw under his cloak. Most people with coin never admit to themselves that attackers could reach them and so don’t wear protective gear.”
“So you’re saying that carriage was stolen?”
“Most likely, or at least bought for much less than its worth. That old man was probably a bandit higher-up with a dwindling support system.”
“I see,” said a dejected Clarissa. She perked up again. “But you didn’t know any of that before. There might’ve been a family in there for all we knew.”
“We would have heard their screaming. Anyway, I’m not chastising you, I’m just saying you have to be more selective where you point my sword, for both our sakes.”
“What about our sakes?” asked Marcela for Ghevont and herself.
“I care less for those.”
“Mercer!” chastised the vampire.
Chapter Five
The rest of the journey to Oclor’s coast was only hampered by more mundane affairs, which largely involved a few late summer downpours. One powerful thunderstorm in particular compelled us to find shelter in a large town. We were slowed further when Ghevont ended up separating from us inside the deluge.
We scoured the town for an hour before finding the scholar in a brothel. He was speaking to a group of, at best, scantily clad women about the best natural tonics to take to treat the most common ailments related to their precarious profession. I noted that Marcela’s wide eyes carried the same spark of attentiveness as when staring at Gwen’s son.
While in a town big enough to have one, I went over to a courier office to write a message to the Warriors Guild in Ecrin, informing Braden to expect us to arrive in two weeks. I paid extra to use carrier birds, since I didn’t think there would be a point sending a missive by horseback and have us arrive only a few days later. It wasn’t until after the transaction had concluded did I realize this was the first time I spent coin on such a trivial discrepancy. The younger me wouldn’t have bothered sending a missive at all, much less care when it arrived. Was I changing? Or was I filling out the barren personality of my lost self? I ultimately concluded the only thing I could—I was thinking way too hard about it.
On finally reaching a random port town, little time was wasted buying passage to Ecrin. Less time was wasted before learning that Ghevont and Marcela were prone to seasickness. In turn, seeing their queasiness made me experience some woozy spells, though I never gave up my food to the sea. The vampire was never bothered by the rocking ship and the results of nausea. In fact, she got the most training done.
She implemented the plentiful water around us to practice her spell, trying to use it to help push the ship forward. I doubt she actually helped the ship along, but I was convinced the hefty resistance training would prove effective. When his stomach wasn’t too unsettled, Ghevont merged his wind spell with that of the crewmen, who used it to propel more air into the square sails.
The density of ships increased the nearer we came to the wealthy Alslana nation, drawing Marcela’s astonished eyes. The huge patrolling warships staggered her when they floated past us. They were at least three hundred feet long and frequently neared four hundred feet. These gleaming brutes were often plated with metal sheets, protecting them against the more powerful fire spells. While one could assume this metal armor would slow a ship to a snail’s speed, the dozens of navel casters onboard could offset the effect by applying water and air enchantments when necessary. In addition, advanced runes and spells existed that lowered the weight of objects they were cast on to. These weight-shedding runes would usually be placed on the metal sheets themselves.
Our refreshed feet touched Eastern Ecrin’s steady land beneath a new moon. Serving to supplant the moonlight were the temple’s six lighted spires over ten miles away. Marcela didn’t believe at first that these massive stone towers were built by humans, not until we walked closer to them and could clearly see their smooth surfaces a
nd the purposeful placement of black and white stones.
“Can we climb to the top?” she asked me.
“You’ll have plenty of time to explore once you’re settled here.”
This remark reminded the girl that she was soon to be living with strangers in the middle of a bustling city, urging her to seek comfort in her intellectual friend. She grabbed his hand with both of hers, startling him. He looked down at the nervous child. To my surprise, Ghevont responded well. He said nothing and clutched her hand tighter.
Our final walk as a group ended when we reached the guild house in Central Ecrin. In spite of the time of night, the guild remained active. A few armored warriors were speaking outside the long building, and the nearby stables kept busy with incoming and outgoing riders. Due to their current low availability of warriors, a sign outside their front doors encouraged all job offers to be “grave in nature.” Nonetheless, the major headquarters always had people on staff, thus allowing the public to freely enter the building to make their requests.
A few minutes after we told the front counter our business with Braden Silver, we were told he would see us in his second floor office. Entering the small room showed us the one armed man dressed in a white nightgown, which he covered with a flimsy blue mantle when he sat behind his desk.
“Ah, Mercer, Clarissa, I was glad to hear you made it out of Gremly safely.”
“Me too,” said Clarissa. “We apologize for disturbing your rest.”
“It’s nothing. Having only one arm stops me from being as physically active as I once was, so sleep is less important. Now, Mercer, your note didn’t really explain who your new friends are.”
“The girl is Marcela,” I answered. “I would like for her to stay here with Cat and Ethan.”
“Are they here now?” Clarissa asked.
“They’ve been busy running errands throughout the city. I’m not throwing them into the fire just yet, so I suppose giving them an assistant wouldn’t hurt.”
“I want to be more than an assistant!” said Marcela. “I want them to train me. I can already use a couple of spells.”
The Dragon Knight's Curse (The Dragon Knight Series Book 2) Page 4